Tag Archives: first love

CG was my first boyfriend, my first lover, and the first person to ever make me feel loved.

He was a little older than me, but worlds apart in maturity, was tall, dark, handsome and a bass guitarist in a new wave band. I was some geeky ex dweeb, who had only just binned her National Health glasses, discovered her figure, and started attracting male attention and could honestly not understand what he saw in me. Hence I was incredibly insecure and jealous of the inevitable attention he got from wannabee groupies, and was stupidly unsophisticated enough not to hide it, and so started the beginning of what probably is still, to date, the most passionate, fraught, tumultuous relationship I’ve ever had.

And somewhere in the midst of this, he took my virginity. Not that he had to persuade me that hard. Stronger than the Catholic guilt, worry about pregnancy, and the fear of ‘what the neighbours might think’ (apparently they trained telescopes on our front door 24/7) was the newly awakened surge of lust and desire to own this man body and soul that drove us both crazy whilst we waited for ‘the big day’.

Given the area where I was raised, and the lack of love in my upbringing, it was a miracle that I wasn’t some irresponsible little slapper who hung around outside the chip shop, smoking fags and going round the back of the offy with some spotty yob for a knee trembler.

I was surprisingly responsible and mature and he was unusually protective and solicitous for a working class new age axe man. We both went to see my aunty to tell her that we were in love and I wanted to go on the pill. Then with her blessing, I went to the doctor’s, got my prescription (I was of legal age), then started to take my pill every night when then two of us met, and as he lovingly watched that ‘little yellow bomb’ disappear down my slender, alabaster neck, we counted down the days until I would be his.

Properly. Wholly and completely.

But sadly our idyllic anticipation and excitement was ruined when my mother searched my room, found my pills and confronted me one morning, crying and calling me every slag, slut and whore under the sun because of what we planned to do. I fled in tears to my would be lover, who pale faced and nervous came back with me that evening to face the music himself.

She said nothing to him. Absolutely nothing. She chatted and flirted as usual, pretending much to our bemusement that all was well, but the moment that he left, she went after me again, insisting that he didn’t love me, only wanted ‘one thing’ and that I would be ruined because he would never marry me if I got pregnant.

‘You don’t have to do it’, she’d plead, ‘if he really loves you, he’ll wait’. And when I was naive enough to tell her that I couldn’t wait, she looked at me with hatred and disgust like I was shit on the sole of her shoe.

This went on for nearly a week, by which time, my mother had completely ruined this precious secret that we had, and turned it into something sordid, dirty and dangerous.

By the sixth day CG could no longer bear the effect this barrage of abuse was having on me, and forced a confrontation, which ended with her weeping piteously claiming only to have our interests at heart and forcing us to say that we’d wait until….until what?

Until we got married? I was just turned 17, my hormones were driving me around the bend and I could barely keep my hands of CG in public, nor he me. Did she honestly think we would abstain indefinitely?

Also, by then I was filled with indecision, worried that she was right that he couldn’t love me because he was too good for me, and I was terrified he would go off with some older, more experienced groupie and kick me to the kerb. I was also petrified that he would think I was a slapper if I did it with him, and not love me anymore.

This is where Marvin came in. Not as a third party you understand, but CG bought me a copy of ‘Let’s Get It On’ and that became the soundtrack of my seduction and introduction to the art of sex in a loving relationship.

Of course we went ahead and did it. How could we not? And when we finally did the deed it was sweet, funny, sexy and partially successful as of course my hymen put up a bit of a fight, but I never once regretted that he was the one who broke me in.

And whilst I loved the title track (our mantra was ‘giving yourself to me could never be wrong, if the love is true’), ‘Come Get To This’ was my favourite, and my favourite line was:

‘Oh, nothin’s changed, you’re still sweet as the mornin’ rain’

And whilst my mum finally figured out that I was no longer a virgin and was coldly disgusted, even she couldn’t take the shine off our love and how sex had only made it stronger.

She was right about one thing though. Our relationship didn’t last. And when we finally parted she said smugly ‘I bet you wished you’d never done it now! Don’t you feel a bit dirty and used? Aren’t you sorry you’re no longer a virgin?’ she could only stare at me uncomprehending when I declared that I was not.

The only thing I regretted was hurting him by falling out of love with him.

And I have never forgotten him.

Of late, as some of you know, my dying libido has had something of a resurgence. I have no idea what’s brought it on but can only put down as it’s desperate urge to hang in there and not be buried under my lethargy, indifference and diminishing hormones and it seems a sad way to end one’s intimate life after such a strong start.

If only I had another CG to send it on it’s way with a bang if you will. 😉

We are actually still in touch and it’s tempting to see if we can rekindle something, but experience tells me it’s never a good idea to look back.

Oh well, I had a good innings…now for the focus on love of a different kind.

If anyone asks you if you’ve seen me, I beg of you my love, be discreet….

You see whilst you are and will always be my first love, I have to confess that I am now, alas, for the meantime, committed to another.

Committed to an intractable, demanding, inflexible creature that expects me to work like a dog every single day, takes everything I say as set in stone, will not allow me to make amends, and the pressure and strain is all encompassing and absolutely unbearable.

And if I make a mistake?

No mercy.

And if I do not give this monster enough?

Then I am made to feel as if I have fallen short of expectation.

Where as you, my beloved, my precious one, take me as I am, and love and appreciate me no matter what I offer you.

Be it a sentence, a song, a poem from my heart; a hateful rant, a story of hope, a tale of terror, tears or things that once were, you accept each word as a precious jewel and make me feel that I can do no wrong.

You ask nothing of me, and in return, all I want to do is lay my bounty at your feet and please you.

Whereas this voracious beast only serves to remind me why I am wary of commitment and turns the most pleasant, pleasing, life enhancing thing in the world into a dreadful, loathsome, tiresome chore.

But rest assured my love that come December I will have no more to do with this cold tyrant, and be yours again exclusively.

I meant to put this up on Valentines Day, more from a perfect timing point of view than to represent my feelings in any way that day, as for the most part, I’m wigged out on meds and don’t feel that much at all.
Because I’m such a guarded (OK terrified), proud, self-protecting shrew, I would rather die than say anything like this to any man nowadays, but that’s probably why I’m alone. Fortune favours the brave…
This song is by Hue & Cry, and whilst I’m not your average sentimental rom-com, Dirty Dancing/Love Actually loving girl <shudders>, I recognise and appreciate when a song is the result of true feelings and not cobbled together to please a target market, hit a deadline or fill an album. The lyrics are beautiful, heartfelt and I hope whoever she was, she loved him back in the end.
Hue & Cry are a hugely underrated band who were at their height in the 80’s, but still tour to this day and do a wonderful version of Paulo Nutini’s ‘Last Request’ which you can find here http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3UYkaWtsFRQ
This was sent to me by my first love a decade after we’d split, and he was probably the only man I’d ever pleaded to stay. And he did ☺ but we were very young, people change and eventually, inevitably we parted, but I’ll never forget the way he made me feel.
Happy belated Valentines Day and to you G wherever you are x….

My therapy journey, recovering from Borderline Personality Disorder and Generalized Anxiety Disorder. I write for welldoing.org , for Planet Mindful magazine, and for Muse Magazine Australia, under the name Clara Bridges. Listed in Top Ten Resources for BPD in 2016 by goodtherapy.org.

My therapy journey, recovering from Borderline Personality Disorder and Generalized Anxiety Disorder. I write for welldoing.org , for Planet Mindful magazine, and for Muse Magazine Australia, under the name Clara Bridges. Listed in Top Ten Resources for BPD in 2016 by goodtherapy.org.